


Public Enemy Number One

by jetta_e_rus



Category: Vorkosigan Saga - Lois McMaster Bujold
Genre: Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-15
Updated: 2011-02-15
Packaged: 2017-10-15 16:52:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/162875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jetta_e_rus/pseuds/jetta_e_rus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Duv Galeni issues visa to some aged Cetagandan tourist. A translation by belana of a Russian fic that was written for ilanal for the Winterfair Open Exchange.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Public Enemy Number One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ilanal](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ilanal).
  * A translation of ["Враг Номер Один"](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/2523) by jetta_e_rus. 



Captain Galeni was an exemplary ImpSec officer and in the last few years nothing had clouded his service record. Everything that had happened before belonged to the past – was buried and forgotten – and Duv had committed no offence. So he didn’t deserve the work that his colleagues correctly named “ImpSec version of Army extra kitchen duty”. Duv was issuing visas to foreigners who wished to set foot the blessed land of the Empire. He wasn’t assigning all the papers, of course, only for those lucky ones who somehow piqued ImpSec interest. But being a disciplined and ambitious officer who was posted to Komarr, Duv didn’t complain.

Sighing, he tapped the comconsole to bring up the details on the latest examination victim.

An old and well-aged face appeared before Galeni’s eyes. Despite the fact that it was an official picture the oldster was openly smiling.

“Smirking maliciously,” any Barrayaran’d have said. But Galeni wasn’t a Barrayaran, and the inborn reflex to Ghem face paint wasn’t in his blood, more than a decade in ImpSec notwithstanding. The man on the picture he was looking at could be a dangerous enemy of the Empire (the red mark on the file gave reason to think that), but his appearance was most likable, genial and harmless.

Duv scanned the data. During his long life (Duv wondered how long it would be before Barryarans lived to galactic standard) Ghem Lord Rau had visited Barrayar twice, both visits were thorough and extensive, and more or less official. The first time he was a part of an expeditionary corps during the First Cetagandan war, the second time he, surprisingly, arrived as Ambassadorial attaché after the reluctant renewal of diplomatic relations between the two empires. And now he wished in his old age for one reason or another to come as a tourist. Galeni would have stamped regular entrance permission, but the red mark on the file caused him to pull up the old ImpSec achieves.

Was this old man a war criminal of old? A spy and persona non grata? These were obvious questions, although his file didn’t indicate any of that. But… the red mark was still there.

Galena signed and started to flip through the pages from the beginning.

“…assure you, dear Uncle, that I eagerly carry out my military duties, to an exemplary standard, as generously noted by my superiors, but I keep my eyes and ears open…” The ornamental script of Cetagandan letters filled the page. Intercepted, identified read the stamp. The ancient seventy-years-old scan was blurred, but readable. The page was framed in intricate hand-drawn decoration. Galeni flicked through, reading every other line: “...wild genes. …astonishing resiliency needing very little further cultivation, and even I, well-experienced in in dragon fights, reached the skies more than once…”

Even allowing for the outdated, flowery Cetagandan style it was rubbish, double-speak, and ancient as fossils at that. Galeni rubbed his eyes – after starring at bleak lines for too long for a moment it seemed to him that the decoration on the margins formed a certain exceptionally indecent anatomical detail over and over. He flipped to the next page.

Report on a home invasion. Ha! This was more interesting. It looked like he was an infiltrator.

“During the official reception the attaché of the Cetagandan Embassy was apprehended by a squad of Palace guards on the territory prohibited for unauthorized entrance. During the arrest he didn’t resist, didn’t interfere with bodily search, didn’t have any weapons or poisons on him. Among objects that raised suspicion there was a partly used almond soap bar (art. 3452), according to the detainee it was taken from the bathroom #11 of the Imperial Residence (the layout attached). Radiological and chemical analysis showed no differences between the given bar and a typical sample. The reason of theft was stated as “…precious intimate souvenir expressing the essence of Barrayaran spirit” according to the detainee’s words. Recommended actions: replace all the sanitary and hygienic supplies in the whole sector with alternate formulations in case of possible substitution; increase the number of guards and vary the observation routines.”

What a strange infiltrator. And what was this? An letter of explanation?

“…wish to assure you, honorable Captain, as a keeper of peace and safety of your Emperor, that my intentions are the most kind. The experience I gained during the captivity proves with all certainty that the causes of rivalry are ephemeral, because our people can learn so much from each other. Isn’t it better to reach the heights of beauty together, to discover new vistas of knowledge and experience? I am ready to give you a time-table satisfactory to both sides and assure you that I have no complaints…” The end of the letter was lost, but on top of the words there was a line written in bold sweeping letters: “Give an elucidating talk to this one. Signed by Capt. Negri”.

Galeni didn’t understand anything. And for some reason he felt a pressing need to unbutton the top clasp on his collar.

”…as an attaché of culture he distributed copies of his article in Anthropology Today among the junior personnel at the Embassy. Some extracts are below: “…At first the Barrayarans had a general custom of boys’ initiation into manhood called the Count’s right of the first night, but later it was reasonably limited by Emperor Dorca Vorbarra to twenty armsmen which clearly affected the well-being of the nation…” “...the fertility custom performed on the change of season period (the so called Winter Fair) ends in a primitive reunion of the celebrants with the mythical incarnation of the fest, Father Frost. I think this coition, that must take place during the night, during the bitterest cold and under the fir tree (that has a very uncomfortable prickly cover) symbolizes the manliness of the local population…” “…considering the fact that female virginity is protected by the law here and the wife is the possession of her master, the noble Barrayarans prefer to find comfort of heart among the comrades in arms…” “…much like the fan language of the ancient Earth the Barrayarans signal of their readiness for intimate contacts by unbuttoning one or several hooks on the uniforms. A bared right wrist means agreeing to walk together under the moon, undone collar communicated the readiness to continue playing the jade flute. If it comes to the belt it is vitally important to find a secluded place with your lover before the ethanol has its effects…”

The captain hiccupped convulsively his hands reaching fast for the collar. He saw the endorsement stamp on the document, “Forbidden to Disclose” a little too late.

Comе on, this was all nonsense. Even if some old man preferred to find comfort in bed in the company of the same-sex people in the olden days, why should a liberal Komarran blush and feel embarrassed? He wasn’t some slow backwoods Barrayaran hick. So what if…

“…at the Winter Fair Ball he dressed in a ladies’ gown and participated in the poetry contest as the result of which Vor Lady N who was part of the jury fainted and honorable Countess NN who was the chairman suffered from a dangerously long, for her age, laughing fit and commented “I’ve been married for forty years, and haven’t known…” Later on this man dressed in the aforementioned gown taught a lesson of intercultural exchange (as he put it) to the squad of the Municipal guard. As a result three guards were late for their duty with identical reports of the causes of such conduct.”

This was, perhaps, even more confronting:

“…in Vorbarr-Sultana’s fashion shop Egoist he read a lecture on comparative analysis of underwear depending on the cultural development and climate of the planet. He displayed his own undergarments and persuaded gentlemen present with words and deeds to take part in a scientific research and take down trousers for the sake of statistics…”

There was no formal reason to refuse the man without actually seeing him, his decade-long attempt to be arrested for being a public nuisance notwithstanding. All of his actions were, sadly, on the brink between rowdiness and disorderly behavior, but it didn’t pass over that line any more than the Betan custom of walking around bare-chested. Rau was cheeky, impulsive but not aggressive. But letting this sex-bomb well past its sell-by date onto Barrayaran territory without making sure that it was safe wasn’t something Galeni’s standing orders or social conscience could allow. He tapped out a message requiring a personal interview, and sent it on its way.

To his astonishment the honorable oldster arrived to the Embassy for the interview looking not at all like an old wreck. He actually reminded Galeni of an old experienced actor who haven’t lost his touch. Moreover he looked like an actor who still could play the parts of aging paramours. The pictures of the Cetagandan somehow looked more staid and conventional than the man himself – even the ones from the underwear lecture, from the hidden cameras in the shop. He still seemed energetic, his voice had no senile whisper quality that you’d expect from a man of a hundred and nineteen years of age.

“Is there a problem?” Henn Rau, retired Ghem Colonel, trouble maker and apparently harmless tourist, asked soothingly. “Do you think that I… hmm…present a danger for the well-being of your Empire… which is well guarded by all those athletic, cocky young soldiers… ah…”

“Captain Galeni.” Duv prompted, hopelessly wrestling the temptation to write everything off as the old man’s dementia.

“I always cared great deal for Barrayaran captains!” The Cetagandan rejoiced. “You can search me personally to ensure my harmlessness.” He purred and unbuttoned a high lavishly decorated collar.

At the same moment the lines from the recently read file came up before Galeni’s eyes… unbuttoning the collar…

And after granting his opponent the visa with all the necessary stamps Galeni, for the first time in his life, fled dishonorably.


End file.
